


When Han Met Chewie

by Leorge_Gucas



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alien Biology, Alien/Human Relationships, Bickering, Blow Jobs, Borrowed Legends Canon, Dom/sub Undertones, Ex-Imperial Han Solo, Grooming, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shower Sex, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 13:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20658047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leorge_Gucas/pseuds/Leorge_Gucas
Summary: A shower shared is twice as sweet.





	When Han Met Chewie

The gurgling water became static in his ears and for a moment he stood still. Just stood. The mud got everywhere. His hair, his eyes. Probably swallowed some. Knowing he was alone Han let out a deep sigh, before quickly realizing he was not so alone. He cleared his throat but the large shadow on the other side of the acrylic wouldn’t move an inch. Instead the door slid open. _Like the stunt on Mimban wasn't enough,_ he thought.

After being dragged around the imperial base like some oversized wookiee plaything Han didn't feel like sharing. But if he moved now and left the shower, they were settled and Han was going to be a chew bone for the rest of his days or, well, however long this mission was gonna last.

“We couldn't have done this maybe one at a time?”

Sometimes Wookieespeak was borderline impossible to translate into Basic without losing its tone and intent, Han knew. Sometimes, however, the answer was quite simple.

<No.>

“Gotcha, bud.”

Han stood his ground and managed to turn around without touching any fur. And for a while they showered in silence.

He remembered the academy. He remembered feeling safe in the showers. He and his comrades secure behind thick ship walls. It was foolish of him to think something fallible as durasteel could shield them from the trauma of war. But he was a boy back then. Children loved their fairy tales and the Empire was nothing short of a storyteller. _Imps._ All they did was lie. Lie like a gungan took to water.

Every now and then Han caught a glimpse of the wookiee struggling to free his fur from mud and god knew what from weeks in that damned pit. The wookiees were a noble people, proud of their strength and looks – if not a little vain. An unkempt wookiee was a seldom sight and this one had to feel as uncomfortable as he appeared. Han’s heart sunk.

_Beast,_ the imps had called him. Funny. Han had met his share of monsters. They dressed in tunic and boots with rank plaques stuck to their chest.

Side-eyeing his shower companion the feeling prevailed. Either he was going to have a heart attack or, worse, Han felt sympathy for the wookiee. Bruised and naked, unsure of tomorrow and utterly alone. _Been there._ But there was something he could do. Least about that last part.

“Need a hand?”

The wookiee stared at him. Blankly. The water made his fur cling to his body and left him looking smaller than he was.

“… Or two?”

Han reached out. Slowly. Steadily. The other crooked his head at the movement. He didn't budge but the muscles under his fur tensed. Ready to strike out if necessary. Once Han’s fingers brushed against fur, the wookiee gave a tiny huff. Han smiled, then felt a lump forming in his throat as he remembered what Dewlanna’s fur felt like. He sure as flack didn’t learn Shyriiwook at the academy.

Han noticed the tags too. At first he thought it was blood coming from either his countless victims or the wookiee himself, but the texture was different – paint. They tagged him like cattle. The huffs and the growls grew louder and harder to ignore with every stroke. Lost in his task to clean the wookiee’s fur Han almost didn’t realize. It wasn't just relief from getting the extra weight off. This was one touch-starved wookiee if he ever saw one.

After a few more moments of silent work Han asked the obvious question. “How long?” He combed through a stubborn chunk of mud. “How long were you down there?” The wookiee blinked, slowly, as though he could blink the question away.

<Three.>

“Months?” Han asked but got no answer this time.

“Not months then.” He swallowed, hard. That was about as long as he had spent at the academy. Learned flying, became the best pilot in the galaxy – tried to get back to Corellia. All for some girl he hadn't seen in years. Meanwhile the Empire took its sweet time torturing innocent aliens. _Maybe not as innocent,_ Han thought, remembering the dismembered corpses on Mimban.

“Han.”

The wookiee crooked his head in confusion.

“Han Solo. Uh. Thought you might wanna know my name. Now that … you know.” Both hands wrist-deep in mud-matted fur Han wiggled his fingertips to get the thought across. “Hey, don’t gimme that look, buddy, we’re bonding here. Usually I buy dinner first but bit low on funds right now so-”

<Chewbacca, son of Attichitcuk.>

“Bacca?” Han blurted out. “Well, if that doesn’t suit you, huh.” The look on the wookiee’s face was priceless. “I know my wookiee legends, big guy, but there’s no way I’m calling you that with a straight face. How about Chewie?” Chewbacca’s eyes narrowed till they were barely visible under his muddy bangs. <I do not like it.>

“Of course you don’t. You love it.”

Chewie didn’t bother complaining or maybe he was just too tired. Again, Han felt for him. The last three years of his life had been lonely but there was always someone to talk to. Someone with an open ear and a bit of spare time to get drunk in a space tavern and spill your heart out after a couple of spice beer. And before there was Qi'ra. With the wookiees enslaved on Kashyyyk Chewie had no one. Just a filthy mud-pit and a chain around his ankle.

And some idiot wannabe groomer who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Han wasn't paying attention as his hands rubbed something soft the wrong way. The guttural growl that followed made his heart skip a beat. “Bantha- look, buddy, my bad! Please don't rip my arms off, deal? Oh- _Oh._” It wasn't pain Chewie felt. Han flexed his fingers, frozen in place until now, and found a nipple. Interesting. The wookiee didn't appear to be in arm-ripping mood and Han was feeling adventurous. He counted six nipples in total and a thick scar running from under Chewie’s throat, down his belly, ending right above his groin. Almost like at some point he had been gutted. By something. Or someone. A tiny voice in the back of his head started asking questions.

But it was too late to turn around now anyways because Han Solo didn't do nothing halfway. He was gonna be an expert on wookiee anatomy by the end of this shower one way or another. The mysterious scar’s origin had to wait. Han felt something brush against his thigh and he didn't need to look down to know what is was. A wave of excitement rushed over him. Glistening pink, covered in fleshy scales from base to tip and not remotely human in shape. Han had never seen something like it. The movement of his hand produced a clear liquid from each individual scale on the dick and a low bass rumble from the wookiee it belonged to. The liquid ran down Han's arm and tickled his elbow. _Self-lubricating._ Han loved it. He clasped the base of the cock in front of him and started stroking.

Chewie growled in shock, disagreement – a bit of excitement. _Maybe wishful thinking on that last one, Han._ “Don't go getting shy on me now, pal,” he chuckled with that lopsided grin of his. “It's a little late for that.” Chewbacca growled a threat, something about biting his fingers off. “Keep it calm. Just having a look, a'ight?” Chewie shifted his leg and made Han lose the cock he was holding. <You do not look with your fingers.>

To be fair, Shyriiwook was meant to be roared at 150 decibels from the top of wroshyr trees, not to waste time with metaphors.

“I've done this before.” Han hadn't sucked his share of imperial dicks for nothing. “I've seen bigger.” _Sure,_ he had. Maybe he was one of them, lying like that. “Just a bit of a break from my usual.” His ‘usual’ was Qi'ra who hadn't been near him in three years. Chewie spent his three years trapped in a pitch-black dirt hole with no one to keep his dick company. They were cool, Han decided. Yet somehow Chewie hesitated.

“C'mon. Is it about a girl?”

<My life mate is not going to stand between us.>

_Life mate._ Okay. Wow. He was joking, asking about a girlfriend, but this was definitely not what Han had expected. “If she's fine with-”

Chewbacca groaned. <I am not your experiment, boy.>

“I'm not a boy,” Han said, pouting. It took him a second sulking about being called a child before the rest of Chewie's words hit home. “And you're not an experiment. Who told you that?” Han ignored their swollen cocks for the moment and touched Chewie's forearm instead. The wookiee gave a rumble, low in his throat. “Do you believe that?” Obviously there was something here they both wanted. And then there was something Chewbacca needed. “Trust me.” Despite how much he wanted to grind their cocks together, his hand never left Chewie's arm. _You bet your wookiee ass, when Han Solo asks for trust, he means it._ Han made circles on his skin and parted the fur in places. Gentle but firm enough for the wookiee to get something out of it. A purr started in Chewie's chest and made Han's arm vibrate in turn. _Ah, blazes. Now he's just being cruel._ “You like that?” With curious fingers he explored the curve of Chewie's rib cage. Traced his midriff but never too low. And tried his best not to get distracted by that something striking him in the thigh for the umpteenth time.

There was a time and a place for everything. Right place maybe but wrong time to think about alien dick.

He could manage. He had to. Just as Han fancied himself the greatest wookiee whisperer this side of the Circarpous system Chewie came with an ear-splitting roar that bounced off the shower's walls – and had reached Rio in the cockpit without doubt.

“Sithspit! You gotta keep it down if you wanna live to have another shower.” Chewie stared back at him, confused and out of breath. Unsure what to make of the human who had just groomed him to climax. “You don't wanna get thrown off this ship either, do you?”

<I do not think the Ardennian kicks people for fucking cross-species.>

A sweet talking wookiee was delusional anyway ...

“Maybe not the Ardennian, no.” Han wiped away what felt like a gallon of wookiee cum on his chest. Curious he caught a whiff and was almost knocked senseless by the smell. Sugary like fruit from a foreign planet. Like the sweets from his childhood they would swipe off store shelves when no one was looking. Like something he couldn’t quite place and loved all the more for it. He was intrigued to taste the strange substance on his fingers but knew there had to be a way to get to the source.

Before he could figure out how to woo a wookiee Chewie was down on his knees. Han felt a small lick on the tip of his own dick. Oh. _Good._ Apparently his reaction inspired Chewie to continue. Just the tip at first, followed by licks along his entire length. Han moaned and sank his fingers into fur. He felt his back sliding down the wall. The tiles scraped his back, undoubtedly leaving a mark or two, but he couldn't care less. Chewie wasn't the only one starved for physical contact.

With Han lost in thought Chewie had lowered himself to the ground, half-kneeling, half sitting on his heels. Han was still grabbing fur when, suddenly, it came to him. He was waiting for directions. “Uh … trust me?” This time Chewie nodded. _Welp,_ that’s all he was gonna get. His life insurance. With Chewie’s mouth slightly parted and his own erect cock in hand there really was only one way to go from here …

“Open up.”

Chewie complied and presented a full set of fangs. In the back of a wookiee's throat there were two identical holes and Han sent a prayer that he was stabbing his dick through the right one.

From the sound of Chewie not choking to death he figured he was lucky.

The muscles inside the throat tightened around Han's cock and made him wonder if wookiees were built for this. All while getting throatfucked Chewie's tongue work wonders to keep Han safe from the fangs and his dick in one piece. “G-Good boy.” He was shot an icy glance but Han stared back into those baby blues feeling oddly reassured. “Good boy?”

Provoking a wookiee with two rows of razor-sharp teeth around his penis. Not Han’s smartest move. It worked out in the end. Like it always did. Han pulled on the fur in his hands till Chewie's snout touched his belly, essentially making him swallow his dick in one go. Immediately Han felt bad. He was obviously exploiting this. And he still had a cock to suck himself. They locked eyes and maybe their minds synced for a second there, maybe it was just Chewie getting desperate. He wrapped one massive arm around Han’s waist, pulled him up and swung him around mid-air. Stunned and unable to scream – not that he wanted to – Han just let it happen. Upside down now, his torso pressed against Chewie's furry chest, supported by the wookiee's arms – surprisingly it wasn't awkward at all.

_Let's just hope and pray that with all the blood rushing to my head my dick doesn't get the shaft. Ha._

He opened his mouth but all he managed was a gurgled, “Don't you dare drop me, fuzzy.” Chewie huffed, amused. Han took a second to compose himself and this time his voice was firm, well. Firmer. “Do not drop me.” So far the wookiee hadn't objected to being ordered. Why not keep playing? Maybe he was hallucinating from the blood rush but the arm around Han's midriff tightened. Just so Chewie's mouth was back where it belonged. Han sucked in a ragged breath as a canine grazed his cock. With his ass in the air at least his legs couldn't give in anymore, he thought. Then he got to work too. This was more than mid-shower gymnastics. He had a reputation to maintain. Without hesitating further he opened his mouth and, finally, got what he was after. “I'm gonna be so sick,” Han joked before giving Chewie's cock a couple investigative licks to see how he would react.

A bass rumble erupted somewhere in Chewie's chest right under Han's own belly that made him groan. _Unfair._

One hand at the base of the cock he was sucking Han's other fingers where free to explore the area underneath. It took a while to find his balls, pressed tight to the skin and covered entirely in fur like they were. He fondled them gently and earned a satisfying shudder from Chewie. While the wookiee deepthroated him merrily Han changed his technique. He was getting nowhere like this. Instead of licking him like a popsicle Han slipped his tongue between two of the countless scales on Chewie's cock.

When Chewie reacted, time seemed to stand still for a moment. The wookiee threw his back against the shower tiles and almost made Han wish he hadn't done that. Almost.

“BLAZES!”

They didn't fall. More importantly Chewie didn't drop him. _He would never._ Also, thanks to Han's cock stuffed in his throat, there was no screaming this time.

“Damn it to hell. Warn a guy next time you turn your brain off. One day you're gonna- _ahhh ..._”

Han didn't finish. Well, he did _finish_. He finished like he hadn’t from years of jacking off and blowing imps in the lockers.

“Ah think I lost my train of thought there.”

Han remembered there was still a cock to be sucked. Gently he shoved his tongue in between fleshy scales and suckled on them like a miniature blowjob. Prodding each and every scale individually earned him another intense reaction. _Blast it. I could do this all day,_ Han realized. Last time he checked he was a boy off the streets on Corellia. Now he was sucking off a wookiee under the shower of a stolen ship from the 224th Imperial Armored Division. When did he learn all this?

No pondering his natural wookiee blowjob technique now though. Chewie was about to burst. For a man who had spent the last three years of his life in solitude he had lasted long enough, Han decided. Chewie's seed exploded in his mouth, his nose and all over his face. That's more cum than he had seen all his life. Choking, breathless, Han coughed a complaint, “It's in my eye!” His hair too. Probably swallowed some.

<You whine like a cub.>

“Watch it, fuzzball! I'm a grown ass man.” When Chewie turned him around, making the world spin back to normal, Han groaned from the blood rushing into his feet. His head felt dizzy. _Stars,_ he was tired. Chewie huffed at him – wookiee-laughter.

“Just wait 'til I shave you in your sleep.”

Chewie shot him a glance. Half-amused, half-worried maybe. Han shrugged it off, stretched his back and readjusted the water temperature. There was still a shower in here somewhere.

“A'ight, pal, come on. Move! We ain't stopping till you’re squeaky clean, you heard me.”

It didn't take them long after that. Surprisingly cum was much easier to clean than mud.

**Author's Note:**

> Had this fic laying 'round and rotting since Solo decided to become best Star Wars movie with that shower scene.
> 
> My ref for wookiee dick: https://imgur.com/3ITBN2h 
> 
> Feedback much appreciated fellow monsterfuckers


End file.
